In the golden realm of autumn's embrace,
Where nature's palette paints with fiery grace,
Falling leaves dance upon the whispering breeze,
A wistful serenade among the trees.
With each gentle descent, a beauty untold,
Their vibrant hues, a story unfold,
From fiery reds to hues of amber and gold,
A masterpiece in nature's hands we behold.
They flutter and twirl, a delicate ballet,
A symphony of colors in their grand display,
As they bid farewell to their branches high,
With grace and elegance, they softly fly.
In their descent, like dreams released,
They carry whispers of secrets, deceased,
As they land upon the earth's waiting floor,
They invite us to ponder, cherish and adore.
Each fallen leaf holds tales of what has been,
Of summers kissed by sunshine and serene,
Of whispered promises and forgotten dreams,
Of love found and love lost in endless streams.
Yet, amidst their beauty, there lies a touch of sorrow,
For their grandeur shall fade, come the cold morrow,
But as the leaves drift from their lofty heights,
They teach us acceptance; they teach us delights.
For in their graceful fall, we find solace anew,
A reminder of life's cycles, constantly askew,
And as we witness their dance in the autumn air,
We are reminded that change is both bitter and fair.
So, let us marvel at the falling leaves so grand,
Hold their fleeting beauty in the palm of our hand,
For in their descent, they carry the essence of time,
And in their whispering rustle, a poet's sublime.
